We don't know how to win," Chris Spielman said. His jaw was clenched. His hair was sweat-soaked. He spoke as if in a trance. "We don't know how to win. Before you can win, you have to know how. Washington knows how. Maybe one day we will. But right now, we do not know how to win. It's that simple."
One by one they pushed the door open and reacquainted themselves with destiny. Joe Dumars, as usual, was first man in. He took a seat by his locker, with his trademark can of Coke, and his trademark disc player and headphones. He had his trademark book, a novel. At his feet, as usual, sat two of the young Pistons ball boys. They were opening his mail."Somebody wants you to test-drive drive a Rolls-Royce," said one, reading the invitation."A Rolls-Royce?" said Dumars, not looking up.'Yeah. 'We want you to experience the luxury of our . . . um . . . ' "
Since Pistons season has everyone in this town crazy again, we might as well mix a little basketball in with the football this morning. If the Pistons played in the NFL, what teams would they be with?* Isiah Thomas: I see him with Houston, at quarterback, replacing Warren Moon.
"Holy Motormouth, Batman!"Jimmy Carson, when asked to describe Shawn BurrHe was 2 years old when he first heard the voices. They came from downstairs. Laughing. Talking. Beautiful noise. He had to find it. He pulled himself over his crib and wandered down the steps."Shawn, what are you doing down here?" his parents said. They laughed and apologized to their guests. They carried the baby upstairs. Into the crib. Kiss goodnight.Five minutes later, he was back."Shawn, what are you doing out again?"Up the stairs. Into the crib.
"Holy Motormouths, Batman!"Jimmy Carson, when asked to describe Shawn BurrHe was 2 years old when he first heard the voices. They came from downstairs. Laughing. Talking. All these wonderful sounds. He had to join them. He pulled himself over his crib and wandered down the steps."Shawn, what are you doing down here?" his parents said. They laughed and apologized to their guests. They carried their baby upstairs. In the crib. Kiss goodnight.Five minutes later, he was back."Shawn, what are you doing out again?"
Mitch Albom writes about running an orphanage in impoverished Port-au-Prince, Haiti, his kids, their hardships, laughs and challenges, and the life lessons he’s learned there every day.
